


Forgiven

by Nithu



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-28
Updated: 2011-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nithu/pseuds/Nithu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Warden Rafe Amell requests a boon from Bann Teagan, it had unexpected consequences. It's hard to realise that the man responsible for poisoning your brother is human, not evil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Warden's Boon

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a one-shot for the 'Sugar and Spice' event at the Dreamwidth community, peopleofthedas. Over two days it turned into a long-shot so, although it was published originally as one piece, I've decided to turn it into several chapters. I will publish a chapter a day; there are five chapters in all, with a short epilogue that will be published immediately after Chapter 5.
> 
> I'd like to thank scarylady1 for providing emergency beta-reading the weekend I wrote this, and WellspringCD for providing further beta-reading once it was complete. I'd also like to thank WellspringCD and lisakodysam for their encouragement when I was feeling so demoralised about this story; it very nearly didn't see the light of day anywhere else.

_I count the dismal time by months and years_

 _Since last I felt the green sward under foot,_

 _And the great breath of all things summer-_

 _Met mine upon my lips. Now earth appears_

 _As strange to me as dreams of distant spheres_

 _Or thoughts of Heaven we weep at. Nature's lute_

 _Sounds on, behind this door so closely shut,_

 _A strange wild music to the prisoner's ears,_

 _Dilated by the distance, till the brain_

 _Grows dim with fancies which it feels too_

 _While ever, with a visionary pain,_

 _Past the precluded senses, sweep and Rhine_

 _Streams, forests, glades, and many a golden train_

 _Of sunlit hills transfigured to Divine._

 _Elizabeth Barrett Browning_

" _ **Forgiveness is the needle that knows how to mend." Jewel**_

Teagan looked up at the knock at the door, glad to set aside the mountain of paperwork that seemed to accompany looking after Eamon's Arldom while he lay sick. "Come in."

The door opened and Rafe Amell's head appeared. "I wondered if I might have a word, Bann Teagan."

"Of course, have a seat." Teagan gestured to the chair on the far side of Eamon's desk.

Rafe sidled around the door and sat stiffly on the edge of the seat, one of his hands plucking at a button on the front of his robe.

Teagan frowned at the warden's uncertain manner. It was very unlike the confident man he'd come to know over the last few days, and Teagan found it a little unnerving.

"You're all ready for your journey to Denerim; you have everything you need?"

Rafe nodded. "We'll be away early." He hesitated, chewing his lip nervously. "I... um... wanted to ask you a favour, a boon, if you will."

Teagan was surprised. He had already promised to aid the Wardens in any way he could. Rafe's manner suggested that his request was over and above that.

"Warden, every man, woman and child in Redcliffe owes you their life, including myself. Ask your boon and I will do everything in my power to grant it."

"It's about Jowan... "

"I'm sorry, warden, I've already explained that it's not within my authority to release the mage. I know he's your friend, but... "

"I understand that." Rafe leaned forwards. "I'm not asking you to release him, just... It's killing him, being locked up in that dungeon. Believe me, it's bad enough being locked away in the tower, but at least there are windows; they don't open, but they admit light."

Teagan frowned, feeling a pang of regret that Connor was being condemned to such a life. He leaned back in his chair, watching Rafe carefully. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I know that Jowan has to be kept under arrest, but would you give him a room in the castle? Just an ordinary room with a window; give him a few books to occupy his time and, I swear, he won't make any trouble." Rafe gazed at Teagan hopefully.

Teagan wavered, in spite of his natural inclination to keep the blood mage in the dungeons. Rafe's pleading was hard to ignore and he owed the wardens so much; if they were successful in their quest to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes, he would owe them even more.

"He will still have to be locked up and those anti-magic bracelets stay on; I'm not prepared to risk him using magic. There's no telling what he could do, otherwise." Teagan looked thoughtful. "I could put him in the old nursery. There are bars outside the windows, but the windows open inwards; he could open them if he wished. I'll send for the blacksmith to fit a lock on the door."

Rafe's face lit up, a mixture of joy and relief. "Thank you, my lord." He stood and offered his hand to Teagan. "I know he's given you no reason to believe it, but Jowan's a good man. He truly regrets his actions." Rafe sighed heavily. "It's partly my fault that he was in a position where Loghain was able to blackmail him to poison the arl."

"I'll send for Owen, first thing tomorrow. As soon as there's a stout lock on the door, I'll have your friend moved upstairs."

Rafe nodded and bade Teagan goodnight.

~o~O~o~

Teagan watched as the guard unlocked the cell door, pulled it wide, and stood aside.

"You can wait at the stairs, Hobson."

"Very good, m'lord." The guard bowed and moved back down the corridor to wait at the foot of the stairs.

Teagan moved to the open door, his nose wrinkling at the smell. The mage stood, pressed against the back wall, watching him warily.

"You are very lucky in your friends, mage. Warden Rafe speaks highly of you. I have to say, I'm disinclined to agree with his opinion; however, he has persuaded me to move you to less... inhospitable accommodations. Come." Teagan turned and strode down the corridor. Hearing no footsteps behind him, he turned, frowning. The mage hovered anxiously at the threshold of the cell.

"What's the matter? Do you want to stay in there?" Teagan didn't bother to hide his irritation. The mage was gazing at him like a rabbit confronted by a fox.

"What? Oh, no!" The mage stepped cautiously into the corridor. "Where are you taking me?"

"Upstairs. Your friend asked if you could be accommodated in an ordinary room. Subject to certain restrictions, I have agreed. So, unless you wish to remain down here, I suggest you come with me."

Teagan turned and continued up the passage, not bothering to see if the mage was following him. He heard soft footsteps behind him as the mage scurried to catch up. The guard, Hobson, stood aside to let them pass and followed them upstairs. Teagan led the way, past the small chapel and across the Great Hall and up to the first floor. He took them down a side passage and Jowan gazed around him, not having been in this part of the castle before. Teagan opened a door and stepped into a room.

"Wait here, Hobson." Teagan held the door open until Jowan followed him into the room, then closed it.

Jowan looked around him in wonder. He was in a large square room, the walls plain whitewash, with two big windows; one of the windows had been opened to air the room. Without realising what he was doing, Jowan's feet took him towards the open window and he stood, rapt, as a small breeze played over his face.

Teagan watched, slightly bemused, as Jowan stood by the window, an expression of ecstasy on his face. As the mage's lank hair stirred in a sudden gust of wind, it brought Teagan's attention back to how filthy the man was.

"I'll have some water brought up for a bath. I don't suppose you know what Isolde did with the rest of your belongings?"

Jowan started as Teagan's voice brought him back to reality. He shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose they're still in my old room."

"I'll check. If not, I daresay we can find some breeches and a shirt for you." Teagan gazed at the mage coldly. "Understand that while your accommodations are more pleasant, you are still a prisoner. You will not leave this room and those things stay on." Teagan gestured at the dull metal bracelets encircling Jowan's bony wrists. "There are bars at the windows and the door will be kept locked at all times; however, you are free to open the windows as you desire."

Teagan was embarrassed at the sight of tears filling the mage's eyes. He turned and left the room, locking the door behind him, before Jowan could say anything. He had no desire to be thanked; this was no gesture of kindness on his part, merely payment of a debt that he could never fully repay. If Teagan had his way, the mage would swing from the nearest tree.

Sending Hobson downstairs with instructions to arrange for a bath for the prisoner, Teagan made his way to the small room that Jowan had previously occupied. The room was a shambles. Clothing and the few personal items that Jowan possessed had been tossed around carelessly, no doubt when his room was searched at Isolde's behest. Teagan started to scoop up the clothing. As he picked a shirt off the bed, something fell back down onto it. Teagan looked closer; it was a small leather-bound book. He picked it up and opened it. About a third of the pages were filled with small, cramped writing, the rest were blank. _A journal?_ Teagan slipped it into his pocket and picked up the rest of Jowan's clothes. He didn't have much; two pairs of breeches, four shirts and some underclothes. There was a cloak too, but Jowan wouldn't be needing that.

"'Scuse me, m'lord. We've brung the water up, but we need you to unlock the door." The maid bobbed a curtsey, apologetically.

Teagan nodded. "I'll be right there." He spotted a razor on top of the dresser. _Maker knows, the man needs a shave._ Teagan hesitated, then picked it up. He'd ask Hobson to watch the man while he shaved, then remove the razor.

~o~O~o~

 _  
5 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_Maker, I am such a fool! I can't believe I'm in this mess. If only I'd had a flint, that blasted templar would never have caught me. It seems absurdly ironic that having finally destroyed my phylactery and escaped the tower, I gave myself away by trying to light a fire to keep warm. I suppose it was naïve of me to think that, just because the templars couldn't_   
_track_   
_me, they couldn't capture me at all. It was even worse luck to be captured by a_   
_bent_   
_templar; or maybe he isn't bent, maybe Loghain has something on him too or spun him some story. He's a wily old fox! If Loghain hadn't taken a new phylactery from me, I'd be out of here like an arrow loosed from a bow. I wonder how he knew about that? I'd always thought it was something the Chantry kept quiet about. Bloody hypocrites!_

 _  
6 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_The boy, Connor, seems nice. I really hope that I can teach him how to control his magic. It's one less for the tower! He seems to lean towards entropy - not my strongest school, but I suppose I just have to teach him enough to keep him out of the templars' clutches. It's not like she's asking me to train him to be a senior enchanter or anything. Then again, his mother's such a stuck-up_ _bitch_ _, he might be better off in the tower. No! I wouldn't wish that on anyone, even with a mother like that. The arl seems all right. A bit of a stuffy old duffer, but nice enough. I hate the thought of poisoning him, but I_ _can't_ _go back! Just the thought of being cooped up in that tower again makes me want to scream. I'd rather_ _die!_

 _  
8 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_It's done. I added it to the brandy in his study. As far as I can tell, no-one else touches the stuff. I hope the servants aren't helping themselves to a crafty nip now and again! The old man shuts himself up in there in the evenings. I can't say I blame him. She had me join her and Connor yesterday evening, wanted me to teach him chess. The woman has a voice like chalk on a blackboard! If Loghain wanted_ _her_ _poisoned, I wouldn't think twice about it. She keeps going on about wanting to keep her darling boy out of the tower, but she can't help sneering when she talks about_ _mages_ _. I think she's ashamed of him. One of the maids was telling me that she's big with the Chantry. I'm surprised that she hasn't turned him in herself._

 _  
9 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_The arl was looking a bit ropey this morning. I wonder if he had some of his brandy last night? I had the fright of my life today! Isolde wanted to go down to the Chantry today and she insisted on taking Connor with her, which meant that I had to go too! The woman's got balls, I'll give her that! I mean, taking_ _two_ _mages into a_ _Chantry_ _. Anyway, there were two templars there. It was odd hearing them gossiping with the sisters, it's not a side we ever see of them at the tower - mostly they stand around like statues. I overheard one of them saying that a_ _mage_ _had been conscripted from the tower by the_ _Grey Wardens_ _. I couldn't help wonder if it was Rafe. He always was a jammy bastard! I wonder why they had to conscript him - maybe Irving didn't want to let his favourite ~~apprentice~~ mage go. I can't believe he turned us in to Irving! I'll __never_ _forgive him._

 _  
11 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_The arl is definitely sick. He was supposed to be taking some men south, to join the king's army, but has taken to his bed instead. Is this what Loghain wanted? It seems odd to want to keep men from the king's army - there must be more to it. Since I heard those templars talking, I can't stop thinking of poor Lily. I hope they haven't been too hard on her. That bastard, Greagoir, was all for sending her to Aeonar. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve me either, she deserved better. I was so caught up in the idea of being a_ _normal_ _man, living a_ _normal_ _life. I really did think I could love her. I_ _wanted_ _to love her._

 _  
14 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_The arl's condition is worsening, even though he's had no more of the brandy since he took ill. Her High and Mightiness has sent for the arl's brother. I wish I'd thought to ask Loghain how long I had to stay for. I'm pretty certain he's got someone watching the castle, reporting back to him. If I leave too soon, he'll just send the templars after me. I wish I could talk to Rafe, he'd know what to do. I still feel so angry at him. I still_ _can't believe_ _he betrayed us to Irving! But I miss him, too. He was always the only person I could talk to._

 _  
16 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_The arl's brother arrived today. He's a lot younger than the arl and a lot less stuffy. The arlessa was all over him like a rash, weeping and wailing; the look on his face was_ _priceless!_ _I must say, he fills out his breeches_ _very_ _well. That's one thing I definitely appreciate, being out of that prison - a pair of muscular legs filling close-fitting breeches. A sight that was_ _all too rare_ _in the tower. It's made me realise how hopeless it would have been with Lily. I would have been a lousy ~~husband~~ lover - I could never have made her happy because it would be impossible for __her_ _to make_ _me_ _happy. And now I'm back to where I started. I'd hoped that writing in this journal would help me straighten things out, in my head, at least. But I'm still a fool and things are still a huge mess._

 _  
20 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_The arl had been unconscious for five days now. Bann Teagan is talking about sending to the tower for a mage healer. Connor and I will need to make ourselves scarce if he does. Mages mean templars and they mean trouble for both of us. Quite apart from the fact that anyone who's spent any time in the tower recently will recognise me straight away, Connor isn't that good at hiding his magic, especially since his father was taken ill. A mage might not spot it, but a templar certainly will. A part of me hopes that a healer will come and be able to help him. I've grown quite fond of Connor and hate to see him so upset. Besides, it's not like the arl has ever done me any harm. Maybe I should just take off. It would take Loghain a while to get news I'd gone. By the time he had templars tracking me, I could be in Orlais. I'd rather_ _die_ _than go back to the tower. I wish I knew what poison Loghain had given me, I might be able to look up an antidote for it._

 _  
23 Drakonis 9:30   
_

_We just got news of a big battle in the Wilds, at Ostagar. I can't believe it! Maker, please don't let it be Rafe that joined the Grey Wardens. He was the closest thing to family I ever had since my father dumped me at the Chantry. The messenger said that the Grey Wardens betrayed the king during the battle and that now the king, the Grey Wardens and most of his army lie slain on the battlefield. Apparently, Loghain was able to save a portion of the army and had taken them back to Denerim. Frankly, I think the whole thing_ _stinks!_ _I wouldn't trust Loghain further than I could throw him. Besides, I've read a lot about the Grey Wardens. They don't get involved in politics, all they care about is fighting darkspawn. Why would they betray the king and waste most of his army? People are saying this is the beginning of a Blight. Maker help Ferelden, if that's true. We're_ _doomed_ _without the Grey Wardens._

~o~O~o~

Teagan yawned and set the journal down. He'd hoped to find some clue about the poison Jowan had used, but it was obvious that the mage had no idea what it was. Rafe had maintained that Jowan truly regretted his actions and, having read the man's journal, Teagan was inclined to believe him. _But it still doesn't change the fact that he poisoned Eamon!_ Teagan felt a flash of anger that extinguished the flicker of sympathy he'd felt for Jowan. He drained the last of his wine, relieved that he didn't have a taste for brandy. He leaped out of the chair and hurried to his brother's study as an awful thought struck him. _Oh Maker, what happened to the brandy?_ He was immensely relieved to find no sign of a brandy bottle and made a mental note to check exactly what had happened to it.


	2. The Knight and The Pawn

_**"How unhappy is he who cannot forgive himself." Publilius Syrus** _

The following day, having ascertained that the poisoned brandy had been destroyed, Teagan went back to Jowan's old room and sorted through his pitifully few belongings. There were some loose papers covered in a strange script that was unfamiliar to Teagan, a tattered map of Ferelden and a couple of books that appeared to have been borrowed from Redcliffe's library. Teagan looked at the spines; one was an account of the rebellion, the other appeared to be an academic text on mathematics. He gathered them all up and took the journal out of his pocket, then headed to Jowan's room.

Teagan nodded at Hobson as the guard unlocked the door. Teagan shivered as he entered the room; both of the windows were wide open. Jowan was standing near one of the windows, arms folded tight across his chest. His expression was wary as Teagan entered the room and Hobson closed the door behind him.

"I brought the rest of your things from your old room." Jowan looked much better. He was clean, at least. The breeches and shirt hung loosely on him. Teagan hadn't realised how thin he was. Although tall, he was slightly built, but the filthy robes had obscured that. He'd also lost weight during his incarceration. The sleeves of his shirt hid the bracelets at his wrists. He didn't look like a mage at all, just a pale, thin young man.

"Th-thank you." Jowan sounded uncertain, surprised even.

Teagan set the things down on the table. He saw Jowan's eyes dart to the journal, then back to him.

"Yes, I read it."

"It's not like there was anything in there that you didn't already know." Jowan shrugged.

"No." _Except ' I must say, he fills out his breeches_ _very_ _well.'_ Teagan stifled the unexpected desire to grin, reminding himself that this man had poisoned his brother. He frowned and pulled the papers out from under the journal.

"What are these?"

"That's ancient Tevinter. I just translated some of the book I was reading, to keep my hand in."

Teagan was puzzled. "Why didn't you write your journal in Tevinter? No-one would have been able to read it then."

"I don't know. Everything was just going around and around in my head. I just wanted to get it out." Jowan snorted softly. "After all, it's not like I could talk to anyone about it."

"So why did you stop? The entries stop weeks before your actions were uncovered."

"It wasn't helping. It didn't make anything better." Jowan turned, staring out of the window. "There was no profound revelation of how I could make everything right." The bitterness in Jowan's voice was unmistakeable.

Teagan shivered as a gust of wind sent the curtains billowing. "Aren't you cold?" The question was asked before he could stop it.

"Yes, I'm cold." Jowan turned his head and a wry grin flashed across his face. "As you know, the last time I tried to get warm, I ended up in all sorts of trouble."

"You could just close the window."

Jowan laughed, genuinely amused. "Only someone who hasn't been locked in a tower for the last seventeen years could suggest something like that."

"Rafe told me they had windows in the tower."

"They had _locked_ windows in the tower. Too many jumpers."

Teagan winced and changed the subject. "There are a couple of books there; they were in your room. I can bring you some more from the library."

"Thank you. That would help pass the time."

"Is there anything in particular?"

This time Jowan turned right around and smiled. "You should just lock me up in your library; I could spend years in there. Whatever comes to your hand. I'm sure it will be interesting."

~o~O~o~

Teagan refilled his glass and stared morosely into the fire. Jowan's words had been bothering him all day. _'They had_ locked _windows in the tower. Too many jumpers.'_ This was what Connor would have to endure. Jowan said he had been locked in the tower for seventeen years already; he was only a young man, in his early twenties. He could reasonably expect to live another forty or fifty years. _Maker, I'd go mad!_ But they did let mages out sometimes, Teagan knew they did. There were sometimes healers, accompanied by templars, of course. There had been a court mage once, although when the last one had retired, she hadn't been replaced. Teagan remembered Rowan telling tales of a mage who'd served his father and fought during the rebellion; the man had apparently been accompanied by a walking statue. Teagan sipped his wine and resolved to ask Jowan more about life at the tower.

He really didn't know what to make of the young man. On the one hand, Jowan had poisoned his brother, yet... Teagan frowned, trying to remember his first impressions of Connor's 'tutor'. He shuffled uncomfortably, recalling he'd found the man attractive. He remembered him as softly spoken, rather self-effacing but with lively eyes and a wry smile. I _remember noticing his hands._ Teagan gulped his wine, scowling. _Jowan tried to kill Eamon and may yet succeed!_ Teagan recalled the entries in the journal. He'd mentioned a girl but... ' _I could never have made her happy because it would be impossible for_ _her_ _to make_ _me_ _happy._ ' Teagan finished his wine and set the glass down, irritated with himself. He was tired and it was late; he should go to bed. It served no purpose to sit up into the small hours, brooding.

~o~O~o~

Teagan looked up as Hobson appeared in the doorway of Eamon's study.

"I jes' wanted you to know, I'm off, m'lord. Carrick's up there now. He'll be 'ere until the mornin'."

"Very good, Hobson. Thank you. How's he been?"

"Quiet as a mouse, m'lord. I've barely 'eard a peep out of 'im."

Teagan nodded; he hadn't really expected anything else. Hobson's report had been the same for the last three nights. "Good night, Hobson. I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night, m'lord."

Teagan turned his attention back to the papers on Eamon's desk. There wasn't really anything else he could do until tomorrow; he'd finally got everything up to date. He wondered idly what to do with himself. Connor was already abed. He sighed. He'd spent too many nights sinking a bottle of Navarran red before retiring; maybe he should just go to bed with a book, but it felt too early. On an impulse, he went to the library to fetch the chess set, then set off towards Jowan's room.

Carrick snapped to attention as Teagan appeared in the corridor. "M'lord."

"Carrick. Is he still up?"

"I reckon so, m'lord." Teagan winced when Carrick rapped loudly on the door, shouting. "Oi! You still up, mage? 'Is lordship's 'ere."

A faint reply to the affirmative came through the stout door.

"He's still up, m'lord." Carrick unlocked the door and threw it open.

Teagan entered the room and couldn't help rolling his eyes as Carrick slammed the door shut behind him. Jowan had been seated at the table, but stood when Teagan entered. The table was covered with papers; an open book lay face down on top of them.

"Bann Teagan." Jowan bowed his head briefly. "Thank you for the books, they're really interesting."

"You liked them? I noticed you had a book of mathematics in your room, but I wasn't sure if it was something you were reading for yourself, or something you were using to teach Connor... "

"Oh, no! They were fine, really." Jowan's face lit up, Teagan didn't think he'd ever seen him look so animated during their short acquaintance. "I love mathematics, but we don't get much time on it at the tower. If I hadn't been a mage, I think I would have liked to be a scholar. I was always much better at the theory of magic than its practical application." His face fell. "If you have magical ability, you're only allowed to be a mage."

Teagan was startled. It had never occurred to him that mages could be good at anything else, might even be _better_ at something else than magic. He saw Jowan look curiously at the box under his arm.

"I was bored and at a loose end. I wondered if you'd indulge me with a game of chess."

"It's not like I have anything else to do." There it was again, that wry smile.

"You seem to be keeping yourself busy," said Teagan, glancing at the desk.

"Nothing that won't keep until tomorrow... or the day after... or the day after." Jowan picked up the book and closed it, then gathered up the papers and tossed the whole lot on the bed. He turned back to Teagan with a look of consternation on his face. "Um... there's only one chair."

Teagan called through the door to Carrick, sending him to bring another chair.

"I wasn't expecting visitors." Jowan's lips twisted in that quirky smile again.

Teagan frowned. _I wish he would stop doing that!_ He set the chess board down on the table and opened it up, moving the quill and ink to the top of a nearby dresser. While he was setting up the pieces, Carrick entered, bringing another chair. Teagan thanked him absently, his attention on the board.

"White or black?" asked Teagan.

"Black."

"How old were you when you entered the tower?" Teagan pondered the board and made his opening move.

"' _Entered_ ' makes it sound so innocuous." Jowan studied the board and moved a pawn. "If you want to know how old I was when I was dragged, kicking and screaming, to the tower... I was five."

"That seems awfully young." Teagan's eyes flicked over the board and he made his move.

Jowan shrugged and his eyes darted up to meet Teagan's before he returned his scrutiny to the chess board. "It's not unusual. Most children display their magic pretty young. I saw children as young as three brought in, and it's rare for magic to manifest as late as it has in Connor. The only person I know who'd manifested later than Connor is Anders; I suspect he found a way to suppress his magic, he's very talented."

"I wonder why Connor took so long to show his magic." Teagan returned his attention to the board and moved his piece.

"It's usually precipitated by some kind of conflict or crisis. I suppose, being an arl's son, Connor hasn't encountered much conflict."

"So, what happened when yours manifested?" Teagan watched Jowan examining the board. For a moment, he wasn't sure Jowan was going to answer.

"I got into a fight with an older boy; he was bullying my little sister. There was a flash and he ran off screaming." Jowan lifted his eyes briefly, his lips twisting in that small smile. "Lightning. Ironic really, as I'm pretty poor at primal magic." He looked back at the board, his hand hovering over a pawn. "There was a huge rumpus and the next day my father took me down to the chantry and left me there."

Jowan moved his pawn and leaned back in his chair. "Some kids have it a lot worse. I've known some whose parents beat them and locked them up. At least my father did look genuinely sorry to be leaving me there, but... when he looked at me, I could see th-that he was s-scared too." Jowan suddenly leaped up from his chair and went over to the windows, pushing them to, but not closing them completely. He stood for a moment, hunched over, arms tight across his middle.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."

"It's all right; I just haven't thought about it for a long time." Jowan returned to his seat. "Have you made your move?"

"What? Oh, no." Teagan glanced at the board and moved a piece. "What's it like living in the tower?"

Teagan saw Jowan hesitate, saw the question in his eyes. "I would know the truth. What can Connor expect?"

"You mean what's it like to be locked up? Knowing that you'll probably be locked up for your whole life. Told when and what to eat, what to wear, what to study. Never having _any_ privacy, sharing a room with others... a room that doesn't even have a door. Being watched constantly, not just your every waking moment, but while you're asleep. You live, sleep, even bathe in full view of other people." Jowan's voice grew bitter. "I imagine you think that being locked up in this room is awful, you think you'd hate it. You have no idea. It's bliss! A whole room to myself with windows and a door." Jowan returned his attention to the chess board, taking his time before he made his move.

"You must have _some_ privacy," argued Teagan. "Your journal mentioned a girl, Lily. You'd formed an attachment to her?"

Jowan scowled. "I suppose you could say that. Yeah, mages form _attachments_ , usually with each other." He glanced at Teagan. "I suppose you think that's romantic? I assure you it's not. Like I said, there's no privacy. If you're lucky, you can snatch a few minutes alone in an alcove or a storeroom for a fast fuck but you have to be quick about it." He laughed. "We always said that's why mages wear robes, easy access without having to get undressed and it's not quite so humiliating when the templars catch you."

Teagan felt his face flush. There had always been rumours about the mages in the tower, their promiscuity; tales of lewd and lascivious behaviour. Jowan's version was much less titillating. He grabbed one of his pieces and moved it. "Lily was a mage?"

"No, she was a chantry initiate." Jowan sighed, his face full of regret. "The tower chantry is one of the few places, in there, where you can get away from other people. I used to like to go in there, to think. We just got talking." He shrugged, and the wry smile tugged at his mouth. "I've never attracted much attention from girls; it's like they know... that I'm not interested, I mean."

Teagan saw the uncertainty in Jowan's face; however, having read his journal, it wasn't a surprise; he kept his face neutral and waited for Jowan to continue.

"I suppose I was flattered, and a bit curious... I'd never tried... And I really did like her, as a person, a friend." He turned his attention back to the chess board and made his move. Teagan winced; he'd almost made a similar mistake in his own youth, although for different reasons. In the end, his conviction that he needed to be true to himself had overcome his belief that he should _'do his duty and marry a nice girl'_ , as Eamon had put it.

"But that's not enough, is it?" Teagan leaned back in his chair and watched the emotions playing across Jowan's face. His account of life in the tower was far harsher that Teagan had expected. Teagan quashed a fledgling impulse of compassion, holding onto the outrage he felt, that this man had tried to murder his brother.

"No. She said she loved me and I just froze. I didn't know what to say, how to tell her... I didn't want to hurt her. Then the rumours started, that I was a blood mage. I've no idea who started it, or why."

"But you _are_ a blood mage." Teagan shuddered at the memory of the ritual Jowan had performed.

"True, but I wasn't at that point. I only sought it out when Lily told me that Greagoir was pressuring Irving to make me tranquil. I hoped it would make be a better mage. It's ironic that it turned out to be the one school of magic that I'm truly talented at. Besides, I thought that if I was going to be punished for something, it might as well be for something that was true. And it's not like I ever intended to use it. Lily and I planned to run away, get married and just live like normal people. No magic, no chantry... just us."

"So what went wrong?"

Jowan got up and started to pace. Haltingly, he told Teagan about their plan to destroy his phylactery; how they'd needed Rafe's help but having agreed, Rafe went to the First Enchanter. He related how, in desperation, he'd resorted to blood magic when Greagoir had threatened them with Aeonar, and Lily's revulsion at his actions. That, more than anything, seemed most painful to him.

"Poor Lily. She thought she was so _brave_ , loving a mage, but in the end, she was just like everyone else."

Teagan was startled at the note of sadness in Jowan's voice.

"But you did escape," pointed out Teagan.

"Oh, yes, I escaped." Jowan laughed bitterly. "All I had were the robes on my back. No money, no food, nothing. I had no idea where to go or what to do, to get even the most basic necessities. It was almost a relief when that damned templar caught me. When I was taken to Loghain instead of the tower it was almost enough to make me believe in the Maker, until I found out what he wanted me to do."

"You could have refused." Teagan felt a flash of anger.

"I had no choice!"

Teagan stood so abruptly, his chair fell backwards. "You _could_ have refused. There is _always_ a choice."

"Yes, I could have refused, and Loghain would have handed me straight over to the chantry. I couldn't _face_ going back to the tower." Jowan was yelling now. "Once I was back there, they would have _killed_ me. There's nothing like a public execution to keep all the other mages in line, in case they're tempted to _dabble_. We don't even get to _die_ in private!"

Teagan advanced on Jowan, shoving him backwards. "In your journal, you said you'd rather die than go back to the tower." Teagan pushed Jowan again, until the mage was backed against the wall. "Was that just words?"

"I just wanted to _live_!" screamed Jowan. "I'm almost twenty-three years old and apart from a few short years that I can barely remember, and a few weeks on the run, I've been locked up; condemned to a _mockery_ of life! I thought... I thought that if I did this, I could have a life, a proper life." Jowan sagged against the wall, his anger fleeing. He closed his eyes against the sudden tears that threatened. "I-I... understand now... that's not possible f-for someone l-like me... a m-mage. It's all I can ever be."

Teagan watched as Jowan opened his eyes, tears spilling down his face.

"If Loghain asked me now, I would refuse. I can't have a life, I've accepted that now," whispered Jowan, closing his eyes again.

Teagan found himself horrified at Jowan's despair. His anger fled as the compassion he'd felt earlier flared again. He lifted his hands, brushing away the tears on Jowan's face; then he was kissing him, cradling Jowan's face in his hands. Teagan felt Jowan tense, then he relaxed and kissed him back enthusiastically. Teagan stepped forward, pressing his body against the mage's thin frame. He felt Jowan shudder, felt the other man's arousal as he pressed against him. _Oh, Maker! I shouldn't be doing this; Jowan is a prisoner!_

Jowan whimpered as Teagan pulled away from him. He stared in confusion as Teagan gave him an agonised look, then strode towards the door, calling for Carrick to unlock it.


	3. Capture

" _ **Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future." Paul Boese**_

Teagan barely acknowledged Hobson as the guard dropped into Eamon's study to let him know that Carrick had taken over for the night. He felt tired and bad-tempered. He'd lain awake for hours, going over and over the things Jowan had said; he was tormented by the memory of that kiss, how Jowan's body had felt against his own. Eventually he had fallen asleep after pleasuring himself, his mind full of images of Jowan, feeling as furtive and guilty as a teenager.

All day, Teagan had kept busy, desperate to keep thoughts of Jowan out of his mind. Jowan's words had bothered him more than he cared to admit; he didn't want that life for Connor. And then there was the man himself, Jowan. The way his mouth twisted in that wry smile touched something in Teagan. He tried to hold on to his anger, but it was in danger of being swamped by pity. When Jowan had screamed at him, ' _I just wanted to_ live', there had been so much fury and desperation in his voice. Not an attempt to excuse his decision, just a man who had nothing trying to explain that, briefly, he'd believed he could have something and had been prepared to do anything to get it.

 _I shouldn't have kissed him._ Teagan still didn't quite understand why he'd done it. It had started as a gesture of comfort, but as soon as he'd touched Jowan, he'd been unable to stop himself. _What must he think of me? I am his jailor; it was an abuse of my position. But he kissed me back._ Teagan groaned, leaning his elbows on the desk and holding his head in his hands. He braced himself, then stood up. After a moment's hesitation, he went upstairs.

"Open the door, Carrick." Teagan's voice was sharper than usual and he barely glanced at Carrick as the guard fumbled, turning the key in the lock.

Jowan was hunched over the desk, frowning in concentration, scribbling furiously on the paper in front of him. He was so caught up in what he was doing, he didn't notice the door opening and Teagan entering; it was only when Carrick slammed the door shut that he started and looked up. Teagan saw some emotion flash across his face, but would have been hard put to name it. _Hope? Pleasure?_ It was gone in an instant to be replaced by a more wary gaze.

Jowan stood, setting his quill down carefully. "Bann Teagan."

"Jowan. I came to apologise." Teagan's voice sounded cold and distant, even to his own ears.

"There's no need," said Jowan, frowning.

"What I did was wrong. You are a prisoner here, I'm in... I shouldn't have... it won't happen again."

Teagan turned, unable to look Jowan in the face, unwilling to see the hurt there. He started to move when a hand grasped his arm.

"Wait! Did you kiss me because you felt sorry for me?"

Teagan hesitated.

"Did you?" demanded Jowan, shaking his arm. For all he was so thin, the mage was surprisingly strong.

"I... no." Teagan refused to meet Jowan's eyes. It was true. While he did pity Jowan, it was more than pity that had driven him to kiss him.

"And did you kiss me because you wanted to hurt me?" Jowan's voice was softer, less demanding.

Teagan shook his head. "No."

Jowan stepped closer, relaxing his grip on Teagan's arm. "Then why?"

Teagan could have pulled free... if he wanted to; Carrick was just on the other side of the door, all he had to do was call out... if he wanted to

"I... I..." Teagan lifted his head and looked at Jowan. "I wanted to." He saw Jowan frown, confused.

"Then why... this?" Jowan let go of Teagan's arm, spreading his hands wide. "Is it because I'm a mage?"

"No! It's... you are a prisoner, _my_ prisoner."

"I've been a prisoner for most of my life! I've had more freedom in this room in just six days than I had in seventeen years at the tower; the freedom to just _be_."

"Jowan, I..."

"Bann Teagan, I'm going to die soon. The templars will come and take me back to the tower and they will kill me. I don't want you to feel sorry for me, rather I want you to understand that I've made my peace with it. The first time in my life I was able to make my own decisions, I made some terrible ones. I really _would_ rather die than go back to living a half-life in the tower, but first I would like to live a little, even if it's just here in this room, for just a few hours."

Teagan hesitated. _This man tried to kill my brother, but...but I want him... and he's never had anything... and that smile... it's because he expects nothing._

"Teagan... call me Teagan."

"Teagan," murmured Jowan. He gazed at Teagan, his blue eyes dark, but made no move.

Teagan lifted his hand and cupped Jowan's face; Jowan leaned into the touch. Teagan shifted his hand, clasping the back of Jowan's head, surprised at how silky the hair under his hand was. Pulling Jowan's head forward, Teagan brushed his lips against the other man's. Feeling Jowan lean against him, he deepened the kiss and put his arm around Jowan's waist. He felt Jowan's arms come around him, felt the lips against his own part as Jowan gasped. Teagan's tongue darted into Jowan's mouth, and he groaned as the mage pressed against him.

Jowan's hands tugged at Teagan's shirt, pulling it free of his breeches, and then his hands were brushing lightly over Teagan's skin. Guilt and desire warred within Teagan. Jowan's hands inflamed him with desire, whilst a little voice in his head persisted in reminding him what this man had done. Teagan growled, pushing against Jowan, forcing him back, yet he couldn't tear his mouth away from the other man's. As he pushed Jowan away with one hand, the other pulled him close again.

Teagan felt the jolt as Jowan hit the solid table in the middle of the room. Gasping, he finally tore his mouth away from Jowan's and the mage seized the opportunity to start pulling Teagan's shirt up. Teagan lifted his arms, allowing him to pull it off. He was slightly disconcerted when Jowan just stared at him.

"What?"

Jowan reached out a hand and trailed it lightly over the auburn hair that covered Teagan's chest. Jowan lifted his eyes reluctantly, his lips twisting in that wry smile that made Teagan's cock twitch.

"You have no idea what a _luxury_ it is to be able to undress someone, to be able to take the time to _look_ at them."

Jowan lowered his eyes again, his gaze sweeping over the broad shoulders, down Teagan's chest and belly, where the hair tapered and disappeared beneath Teagan's breeches.

"What about being looked at? I suppose you're not used to that either?" Teagan grasped Jowan's shirt, tugging it up and over his head.

"Indeed," agreed Jowan, chuckling.

Although the mage was slightly built, he was surprisingly muscular, a thin, wiry strength, quite different from Teagan's own. His skin was pale, almost translucent; it had never been touched by the sun. A small patch of dark hair covered his breast bone and ran down his abdomen. His nipples were surprisingly dark against the pale skin of his chest, as were the dull metal bracelets encircling his bony wrists.

Teagan pressed against the mage, revelling at the feeling of skin against skin. He dipped his head and kissed along the narrow shoulder. Jowan moaned softly, leaning back over the table, bracing his hands on the edge of it. When his head fell back, Teagan's mouth moved to the slender neck, feeling Jowan's pulse racing beneath his lips. Jowan shuddered, rubbing his groin against Teagan's. Teagan could feel Jowan's erection pressing against his own. Teagan grasped the laces of Jowan's breeches and tugged at them. Jowan's breeches hung loosely, low on his hips, and he jerked as Teagan's fingers brushed over the head of his cock. Teagan pulled at Jowan's breeches, dragging them down, small clothes and all, around the top of his thighs. Teagan leaned back and watched his fingers trace the line of dark hair down Jowan's belly.

Jowan hissed as Teagan's hand closed around his cock and a jolt of pleasure shot through him. He couldn't help thrusting into Teagan's hand as Teagan stroked him firmly, but deliciously slowly. Jowan couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of Teagan's hand on him, as his own hand reached out to tug at the laces on Teagan's breeches. Jowan fumbled with the laces, then got them undone and he plucked impatiently at them. He tore his eyes away from what Teagan's hand was doing to him, and looked at Teagan's exposed erection. His eyes widened; Teagan was... impressive. Not unusually long, but in girth... Jowan gulped. Jowan ran his fingers along the underside, then cupped his hand under it, as if testing the weight. He looked up as Teagan groaned loudly. Teagan's blue eyes were almost black with lust. Jowan let his eyes drop to the heavy cock in his hand, then looked up at the bann again, his mouth twisting in a smile. He felt Teagan's cock twitch in his hand.

"I could just look at you all night."

"Don't you dare!" growled Teagan hoarsely. He grabbed Jowan's hand, closing the long, pale fingers around him. He kissed Jowan hungrily; he wanted to wipe that twisting smile off the mage's face. Teagan released his grip on Jowan's hand and cupped his balls. It was Teagan's turn to smile as Jowan's head fell back.

"Oh, Maker!" groaned Jowan. His legs turned to jelly as Teagan's hands worked on him. His own hand stuttered and faltered on Teagan's shaft. Jowan was transported as he felt Teagan's mouth on him, teeth nipping at his neck. His hips bucked as he came, streams of milky fluid jetting onto Teagan's belly.

"T-Teagan!" The words were wrung out of him as Teagan's hand squeezed his pulsing cock, milking every last drop out of him. Jowan had to brace his hands on the edge of the table; he trembled with the effort of holding himself up. He felt completely boneless.

Teagan kissed him tenderly, then drew him close.

"There's a perfectly good bed over there."

Jowan could only nod; he wasn't sure he could move. Teagan pulled him away from the table and tucked an arm around him, leading him to the bed. Although intended for one person, the bed was generous and more than adequate for what Teagan had in mind. Teagan lowered Jowan so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, then lowered himself to one knee and tugged at Jowan's boots.

"I can do that," protested Jowan.

"You can just watch," said Teagan, smirking. He tugged one boot and sock off, then the other; finally, he leaned forward and dragged Jowan's breeches and small clothes off. Teagan stood and pulled his own boots off, swiftly followed by his breeches and underwear. He looked down at Jowan, whose appreciation was obvious; the mage was already hardening again.

"Do you have any oil?"

Jowan nodded. "There's some olive oil on the dresser." Teagan's eyebrows went up. "The bracelets chafe, one of the maids brought it for me."

Teagan frowned, but crossed the room to retrieve the small bottle of oil.

Jowan scooted up the bed, lying on his side, watching Teagan. _He's even better out of his breeches than in them._ He flushed, remembering what he'd written in his journal. For a brief moment he questioned Teagan's motives. _That's just stupid. If I hadn't pushed it, he would have apologised and left._ His eyes swept over Teagan's body as he came back to the bed; there was no mistaking his obvious enthusiasm.

Teagan set the bottle down on the floor, at the side of the bed, then lay down, leaning over Jowan.

"You've done this before?" he murmured.

Jowan grinned up at him. "Many times, although it was usually a little rushed. It will be a nice change not to have my face pressed up against a wall."

Teagan shivered at the image Jowan's words conjured up. He leaned closer.

"What if I wanted your face pressed against the wall?" His voice was low and husky in Jowan's ear.

Jowan gulped, then reached out and curled his fingers around Teagan's cock. "I want to see you," he whispered.

Jowan was mortified as he felt his eyes fill up with tears. Suddenly, being able to see Teagan fuck him was the most important thing in the world. He'd been taken so many times, in the dark, in closets and storerooms; an anonymous body pressing him up against a wall. Always with the same urgency, to finish before being discovered by the templars. It had never bothered him before; it was just the way things were in the tower. But now, lying here, bathed in lamplight, being able to look at his lover, those past experiences felt furtive, shameful even. Jowan had done so much he was ashamed of; he didn't want to be ashamed of this.

Teagan's face creased with concern. He kissed away the tear that escaped and rolled down the side of Jowan's nose.

"Then you shall." Teagan's mouth whispered kisses down Jowan's face. He pushed Jowan, so that the mage was laying flat on the bed, then ran his hand down Jowan's body, stroking and caressing as he went. Teagan twisted, reaching for the bottle of oil. He pulled the stopper out and poured oil onto his fingers, then handed the bottle to Jowan, holding his gaze, eyes smouldering.

Jowan almost dropped the bottle as Teagan's finger slid into him. His fingers trembling, Jowan poured some of the oil into his palm. He handed the bottle back to Teagan, who dropped it to the floor, not caring if it spilled. Jowan reached for Teagan, smoothing the oil over his cock. He saw Teagan's eyes close, heard him gasp, then Teagan's eyes snapped open and he inserted another finger. Jowan thrust against the fingers pressing into him, arching as they found that sweet spot. He glanced down his body; he was hard again.

Teagan followed Jowan's eyes, saw his straining cock. Without removing his fingers from Jowan's body, he moved so that he was kneeling between Jowan's knees. He bent his head and ran his tongue up the mage's engorged shaft. He felt Jowan tighten briefly around his fingers. He waited for the mage to relax again and inserted a third finger. He was rewarded by a throaty moan. Jowan might want to see, but Teagan liked to _hear_. He twisted his fingers, thrusting them deep into Jowan, as he kissed and sucked his cock. Teagan shuddered at the groan that erupted from the other man.

Teagan lifted his head to see the mage staring at him, eyes wide and dark.

"Oh, M-Maker, Teagan...please... "

"Tell me what you want, Jowan. You can watch if you tell me what you want me to do."

"F-fuck me, Teagan. P-please, f-fuck me," gasped Jowan.

Teagan grinned and withdrew his fingers, sitting back on his heels. He stroked his cock, watching Jowan eye it hungrily.

"Please, T-Teagan. I want to feel you... inside me."

Teagan shuffled up the bed, placing his hands underneath Jowan's thighs and pushing them back.

"Pull your legs back."

Jowan did as he was told, watching Teagan intently. It took all Teagan's self-control not to thrust roughly into the mage. He didn't want to hurt him, but he looked so _inviting_. Instead, Teagan, pressed himself slowly into Jowan, pushing past his resistance, feeling Jowan gradually relax around him. Only once he was satisfied that Jowan was comfortable, did he start to move, slowly withdrawing, then thrusting back.

Jowan groaned loudly at each thrust. It was music to Teagan's ears. He picked up the rhythm, the combination of Jowan's moaning and the tight heat surrounding him taking him closer and closer to the edge. Teagan shifted Jowan's hips, adjusting the angle slightly, and was rewarded by a shuddering moan as Jowan arched off the bed. For the first time, Jowan couldn't hold Teagan's gaze as his eyes rolled back in his head. Teagan reached out and grasped Jowan's cock, pumping roughly.

"Oh, Maker, Teagan!" Jowan came hard for the second time that night and, as his body contracted around Teagan's cock, Teagan abandoned the remnants of his self-control and thrust hard and fast into the mage, spending himself deep inside him.

Teagan withdrew and stretched out on top of Jowan, kissing him tenderly, then he rolled onto his side, hugging Jowan to him. They lay there quietly for a few minutes, until Teagan stirred himself.

"I'd better go."

Jowan nodded. "Can we... will you come back tomorrow."

Teagan propped himself up on one elbow and kissed Jowan again. "Until tomorrow... and wear the robes. I've never fucked anyone up against a wall." Teagan grinned at the shiver that ran through Jowan.

Teagan got up reluctantly and dressed, Jowan's eyes on him the whole time. Once fully-clothed, he leaned over the bed again and kissed Jowan deeply.

"Until tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Teagan," murmured Jowan, watching him cross the room to the door.

A wide-eyed Carrick answered Teagan's call. He tried to see past the bann, but Teagan blocked his view, pulling the door closed behind him.


	4. Confession

_**"One forgives to the degree that one loves." Francois de La Rochefoucauld** _

The next evening, Teagan found himself eagerly hurrying up the stairs bearing a bottle of wine and two glasses. Carrick's eyes boggled as he noted the bottle, but he said nothing, merely opening the door and pushing it open. Teagan entered, kicking it shut behind him. He noticed that, unlike his previous visits, the table was empty, except for the half-full bottle of oil. Jowan was standing by the table, looking slightly apprehensive. He realised that the room was much darker than it had been before, the lamp set down further away. Teagan set the wine and glasses down on the table, then pulled Jowan to him and kissed him gently. He felt Jowan relax against him, then Jowan was kissing him back, making little whimpering noises in his throat that had Teagan hard in moments.

Teagan nuzzled Jowan's neck. "I want you, Jowan." His voice was already husky with desire. "I want you up against the wall." Teagan turned with Jowan in his arms and slowly backed him the short distance from the table to the edge of the room. He dropped his hand and fondled the mage, his hand finding Jowan's cock. Under his robes, the mage was hard too.

Teagan released Jowan, growling, "Turn around."

As Jowan did so, Teagan stepped towards the table and picked up the oil. Tugging at his laces with one hand, he pulled his breeches down just far enough to release his cock. He poured oil on to his hand, then smeared it over his shaft, spreading some of the oil on his fingers at the same time. He set the bottle down and turned back to Jowan, who had already braced himself against the wall, legs slightly apart. The mage's head was twisted, looking back over his shoulder, watching Teagan prepare himself. Teagan lowered his hand and stroked himself slowly, drawing the moment out, watching Jowan's eyes darken.

Jowan turned his face towards the wall as Teagan stepped in close behind him. The anticipation was almost unbearable. He felt movement behind him, then his robes were pulled up around his hips.

"Hold them up." Teagan's voice was dark and gravelly, sending a thrill through Jowan. He removed a hand from the wall and grasped his robes. He felt Teagan's hands on his backside, pulling the cheeks apart, then something warm and wet. _Maker, he's using his tongue!_ Jowan's hips jerked as he whimpered, the hand holding up his robes clenching convulsively. Jowan had never felt anything like it. The oiled fingers of the night before hadn't been a completely new experience; sometimes Jowan was lucky enough to be fucked by a mage who was good with a grease spell, although the amount of time Teagan had spent preparing him was a luxury he'd never experienced before. More often than not, the best that Jowan could hope for was for his lover to spit on his arsehole before entering him; there wasn't time for more.

Teagan's tongue flicked and probed, teasing the puckered ring of muscle. He felt Jowan squirming, under his hands, twitching and jerking, heard him whimpering and mewling under his ministrations.

"Oh, Maker, Teagan! I can't stand it! Fuck me," begged Jowan, a note of true desperation in his voice.

Teagan stood up and obliged. He drilled hard into the mage, snaking one arm around Jowan's hip, his hand grasping Jowan's cock. His other hand covered Jowan's, high up on the wall. He heard Jowan yell as he entered him hard and fast. He paused for a moment, until he felt the mage relax, then his hips flexed and he pounded into the mage. Teagan pressed against Jowan's back, his mouth nuzzling and nipping ears, neck, whatever he could reach. As hard as Teagan thrust into Jowan, the mage thrust into Teagan's hand. He felt the mage shudder, felt the muscles clenching tightly around his cock, then he followed Jowan over the edge with a shout.

Jowan leaned against the wall, trembling. Behind him, Teagan leaned against him. Both men were panting. Sweat dripped off Teagan's face and ran down Jowan's neck. Teagan withdrew carefully, but otherwise didn't move.

Eventually, Jowan huffed a soft laugh. "Wow! It wasn't like that in the tower, even up against a wall."

Jowan couldn't see it, but he felt Teagan smile against his neck.

"We should probably move," murmured Teagan.

"Probably," agreed Jowan. He felt lips against the back of his neck and sighed as Teagan moved away from him.

Teagan reluctantly pulled himself away from Jowan. His shirt was damp and sticking to him. Grimacing, he pulled it over his head and draped it over the back of the chair. He poured a glass of wine for each of them, then carried the bottle and his glass over to the bed. He sat on the edge of it and started to pull off his boots. He glanced up. Jowan was still standing against the wall, although he had turned around and was watching Teagan intently. It could have been unnerving, if Teagan hadn't begun to appreciate just how important, how novel, it was for Jowan to be able to _see_ his lover. In other circumstances, Teagan might have been uncomfortable under such scrutiny; instead, he felt touched by it. Almost literally. If it was possible for a man to make love with his eyes, then Jowan could do it.

Once Teagan was undressed and settled in the bed, Jowan finally moved away from the wall. He picked up his glass of wine and came over to the bed. He pulled his boots off, then started to unfasten his robes, long, pale fingers plucking at the buttons. He slid into the bed alongside Teagan. Teagan stretched out his arm, and as Jowan pressed against him, resting his head on Teagan's shoulder, Teagan curled his arm loosely around the mage's thin shoulders.

He glanced down at Jowan and saw Jowan gazing steadily back at him, the look on his face... almost wonder.

"What?"

"I... I never knew," said Jowan quietly.

"Never knew what?" Teagan frowned, puzzled. He saw Jowan flush, that wry grin twisting on his face.

"That there were men like you... like me... outside the tower."

A bark of startled laughter escaped Teagan before he could stop it. "Really?" Seeing Jowan's look of embarrassment, he thought more on what Jowan had said. "Really?" he asked softly. "Then what did you think...?"

Jowan lowered his eyes and sipped his wine. "I-I thought th-that it was something to d-do with being a m-mage."

Teagan found the idea so startling, he was lost for words. "Why would you think that? Even the Chantry doesn't condemn men like us."

"They don't?" Jowan's eyes were wide with surprise.

"No!" Teagan thought about it for a moment. "They actually have little to say about it, although I suppose there's some unspoken disapproval, maybe. They extol chastity, the virtue of marriage and so on. Why, do they tell you differently in the tower?"

"I suppose not, it's just... " Jowan trailed off, looking away.

Teagan cupped Jowan's cheek in his hand. "It's just what? Look at me, Jowan."

"We are already outcasts; _cursed_ as the Chantry would have it. We are the lowest of the low, shut away in the tower because of the danger we present; but even within the tower there is a hierarchy. The t-templars, they regard male mages as less than men anyway, b-but men l-like m-me... us... they reserve a special contempt f-for us... even for mages, we were freaks." Jowan stopped, closing his eyes tightly for a moment, before continuing, his voice little more than a whisper. "Lily... running away with her... I wanted to be a normal man in every way."

Teagan could see the tremor in Jowan's hand as he raised his wineglass to his lips. Teagan set his own glass down on the floor, then took Jowan's and set it down alongside his own; he put his arms around the thin mage and held him close.

"Oh, Jowan. Templars are men that are not allowed to live as men. Some have chosen that life, others not, but I can't imagine that any of them have much knowledge about what is _normal_. I would imagine that some of them, at least, have the same desires as you and I; I can only think that when such a man sees you, he has to stifle his own feelings and the easiest way for him to do that is to try and put _you_ in the wrong. That way, he can hide from himself the fact that he desires you, or those like you."

Teagan looked down at Jowan and grinned. "I, on the other hand... " He dipped his head and kissed Jowan lightly, "I don't have to hide it from anyone."

They talked for hours, sipping their wine whilst holding each other close. Eventually, Jowan, who was unused to alcohol, started to drowse against Teagan's shoulder. Teagan smiled at the sleepy mage and shook him awake.

"I should go. It's getting late."

Jowan sighed, unable to hide his disappointment.

"I'll come back tomorrow evening," said Teagan, kissing him.

"'S my turn to choose tomorrow," mumbled Jowan sleepily.

Teagan laughed softly. "Very well. Tomorrow, you choose. Good night, Jowan."

"G'night."

Teagan slipped from the bed and pulled his clothes on. He turned and saw that Jowan was already fast asleep. He watched him for a moment, then knocked softly on the door.


	5. Judgement

_**"Forgiveness is the final form of love" Reinhold Niebuhr** _

Carrick's face was flat as he unlocked the door for Teagan; he wouldn't meet Teagan's eye as he mumbled a perfunctory greeting. As he entered, Teagan was slightly surprised to see Jowan stretched out on the bed, hands behind his head. He turned his head, smiling, as Teagan closed the door behind him. Teagan glanced at the table; it was clear of books and papers as it had been the previous night. He noticed that the room was much brighter; unlike the previous evening, all the lamps had been lit and burned brightly. Jowan was dressed in a loose shirt that looked several sizes too big for him, and a pair of breeches, his feet were bare. He swung off the bed as Teagan advanced into the room.

"Jowan." Teagan smiled at him.

"Hello, Teagan." Jowan grinned. "You didn't bring any wine tonight."

"Oh, did you want some?"

"No. I enjoyed it last night but not so much this morning." Jowan looked slightly sheepish, which made Teagan laugh.

"So, tonight you get to choose." Teagan had been burning with curiosity all day. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," said Jowan, smiling.

"Nothing?" Teagan laughed uncertainly.

"Well, mostly nothing." Jowan advanced towards Teagan until he was standing right in front of him. "I want to explore you."

Something in Jowan's voice sent a frisson of excitement through Teagan.

"I'm all yours."

Jowan's lips quirked into the wry smile that made Teagan's insides turn over, and he raised his hand to Teagan's face, cupping it in his palm as he leaned in and kissed Teagan. He didn't kiss him for very long as his mouth moved to explore Teagan's neck and his ears. As he moved around Teagan slowly, exploring with his mouth, his hands began their own journey, pulling Teagan's shirt free, then off, over his head.

While it had seemed easy at first, to accept Jowan's hands and mouth moving over him, it quickly turned into an exquisite torture. Teagan gasped and moaned as finger nails scraped lightly down his back, teeth grazed over his nipples. Sometimes Jowan wrapped himself around Teagan as he caressed him, at others he held him at arm's length as his eyes roamed over Teagan's torso as much as his mouth and hands did. Eventually, Jowan's slim fingers tugged at the laces of Teagan's straining breeches.

"Get undressed," murmured Jowan breathlessly.

Teagan didn't need telling twice. He kicked off his boots and ripped off his breeches and small clothes, throwing them to the floor. Jowan also undressed hurriedly, hurling his clothes aside.

"Lie down on the bed." Jowan's voice was husky.

Teagan lay down on the bed, his cock thick and straining, lifting away from his belly. He glanced at Jowan and could see that his lover was as aroused as he was.

Teagan almost whimpered as Jowan sat down on the bed, then twisted, his lips moving over Teagan's feet. It seemed as if Jowan intended to start at the bottom and work his way slowly up. The anticipation was almost killing Teagan, but he didn't move, except to trail one hand lightly over Jowan's back.

Agonisingly slowly, Jowan progressed up Teagan's legs. He nudged Teagan's legs apart with his head, licking up the inside of his thighs as his finger nails dragged down the outside of them. When Jowan blew over his balls, Teagan couldn't stop his hips from jerking. When he felt Jowan's tongue swirl over the head of his cock, lapping at the moisture that had gathered there, he moaned and thrust deep into Jowan's mouth. Almost immediately, Jowan's mouth was gone and Teagan wanted to scream in frustration.

Jowan reached down and grabbed the small bottle of oil, now almost empty. He poured it into his palm, then started to stroke Teagan, coating his twitching erection in oil. Teagan whimpered in frustration as the warm hands left him, until Jowan moved and straddled his pelvis, kneeling over him. As Jowan slid down onto him, Teagan grasped his hips and thrust up to meet him and didn't stop until he was sheathed up to the hilt in the mage. He gazed up at Jowan, impaled on him, and at the sight, his body arched and he threw back his head in ecstasy. Jowan wriggled and then he too arched and threw his head back as he found just the right angle. They were both rigid with pleasure for a long moment, then Jowan started to move up and down and Teagan thrust up frantically to meet him, almost sobbing. Jowan's hand encircled his own cock and his hand pumped furiously.

Teagan tried to wait for him, but was undone by the relentless pace set by Jowan. With a yell, his hands gripped Jowan's hips, pulling him down hard as he pulsed inside him. Moments later Teagan was groaning again as he felt Jowan tighten around his softening cock and Jowan coated his belly and chest with milky seed. Teagan lay shuddering on the bed, unsure if he should refuse to let Jowan choose ever again or let him choose every night. He pulled Jowan down onto his chest and kissed him hard. They lay like that for hours until Teagan reluctantly left to return to his own lonely room.

~o~O~o~

Teagan sat at Eamon's desk, lost in thought, his fingers fiddling with a small paper knife. He'd been looking forward to seeing Jowan this evening. Instead, the Grey Wardens and their odd collection of companions had arrived back at the castle with news of the scholar who was searching for the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Rafe had asked if he could visit Jowan and it would have been churlish to refuse, especially when he knew how much Rafe meant to Jowan. He hoped that Jowan would be able to make a true peace with his friend.

He went to the doorway, calling for a servant. "Mair! Would you go upstairs to Carrick, please, and tell him that I would like to see the Grey Warden, Rafe, when he has finished visiting Jow... the prisoner."

Teagan sat back down at the desk and resumed fiddling with the paper knife. It was another hour before Rafe interrupted his musings.

"Please, Warden, sit down." Teagan gestured to a chair and closed the door behind Rafe. Teagan leaned on the edge of his desk.

"I want to talk to you about Jowan."

"And I want to thank you," replied Rafe. "I don't think I've ever seen Jowan so happy. I know it was a big favour to ask."

Teagan brushed off Rafe's thanks. "I have my own favour to ask, Warden. I know you have done so much for us already, but I hope that you won't find this burdensome." He saw Rafe watching him curiously. "I want you to take Jowan with you when you leave tomorrow."

Rafe was speechless.

"I was thinking, the Grey Wardens hold the Right of Conscription. Maybe you could conscript Jowan, or at least, we can tell people you have."

"Why? Why would you, of all people, want to let Jowan go?" Rafe couldn't hide his astonishment.

"I-I've spent quite a lot of time with Jowan, he's been telling me about life in the tower. I think... that I understand how he came to do the things that he did." Teagan started to pace. "I still think that what he did was deplorable, but... Warden, my nephew will have to go and live in the tower. I know that there is nothing I can do to prevent it, but one day, when Connor is older, maybe he will have a chance at another life. If I can do this for Jowan, maybe someone will help Connor, when he is older." Teagan stood and gazed at Rafe. It was true; it wasn't the _whole_ truth, but it was part of it.

"I'm not sure that Jowan's suitable for the Grey Wardens." Rafe frowned.

"Rafe, once you go through that gate, Jowan is your business, no-one else's. These are troubled times, who knows what could happen? Maybe he will become a Grey Warden, maybe he will _escape_ or maybe he will _die_."

Rafe looked up startled. "You mean that... "

"I mean that only _you_ will know the truth of what becomes of Jowan. Anything else will just be gossip and speculation."

"I understand. Then, yes, of course I'll take Jowan with us." Rafe stood. "I'd better turn in, we have to make an early start tomorrow."

Teagan watched Rafe leave, then went upstairs. Carrick unlocked the door for him and stood aside. Teagan stepped into Jowan's room, shutting the door quietly. Jowan was lying on the bed, fast asleep. Teagan crossed the room and crouched down, staring at Jowan. He looked so peaceful. ' _He looks so young_ ' thought Teagan ruefully. He leaned forward and kissed Jowan softly on the forehead; he didn't stir. Teagan felt a flash of disappointment, but didn't have the heart to wake him. Instead, he crossed to the windows, pushing them to and opened the lid of the chest in the corner, pulling out a blanket. He went back to Jowan and draped the blanket over him, then leaned over him and kissed him gently once more. He knocked softly at the door and Carrick let him out.

~o~O~o~

Rafe ate his breakfast quickly, then went upstairs to fetch Jowan. Teagan had given him the key to the bracelets Jowan wore. Jowan stood in a daze as Rafe unlocked them. He watched as Rafe produced an empty pack and started stuffing the few clothes that Jowan possessed into them.

"Is this all you have?"

"There's a cloak in my old room, I think, but yes." He grinned at Rafe. "It's not like I had time to pack when I left the tower."

"Let's go and get it then, you're going to need it." Rafe was out of the door and halfway down the passage before he realised that Jowan wasn't with him.

Jowan hovered on the threshold, looking nervously for the guard that was usually there in the daytime.

"Come on," urged Rafe. "We have to get going."

Jowan took a deep breath and stepped into the passage. He couldn't believe this was happening. Rafe had turned up in his room after breakfast and told him that Teagan had asked him to take Jowan with him when they left. Jowan kept wondering when he was going to wake up.

It took them no time at all to fetch Jowan's cloak, then he was bustled downstairs and introduced to Rafe's companions. He remembered the other Grey Warden, Alistair; he had 'templar' written all over him and couldn't quite hide his disapproval. Wynne, he remembered from the tower, of course. The apostate, Morrigan, had entered the Fade when he'd performed the ritual on Isolde; she greeted him indifferently. The others were a strange bunch; A giant Qunari who radiated disapproval, an Orlesian woman with a wicked looking bow strapped to her back and a golden-skinned elf, who grinned in welcome and immediately started flirting with him.

Teagan joined them. "I'd like to speak to Jowan before you leave, Warden."

Rafe nodded and Teagan led the way to Eamon's office. He held the door open for Jowan, then closed it behind him. Teagan barely had time to turn around before Jowan threw his arms around Teagan's neck. Teagan hugged Jowan close.

"Why are you doing this? I don't deserve this!"

"Then earn it. Go with Rafe and earn it."

"But what I did... your brother... "

"If anyone can save Eamon, Rafe can. What's done is done and handing you over to the templars won't change that. Go with Rafe and see if you can be something outside of the tower. You will always be a mage, but I'd like to think it's possible for you to be more than that. For Connor's sake, I'd like to believe that."

Jowan shifted his head and kissed Teagan, a searing kiss that had Teagan regretting that he hadn't woken Jowan the night before. Eventually, they broke apart, gasping.

"Come, Rafe will be getting impatient."


	6. Epilogue

_**"To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you." Lewis B. Smedes** _

Eamon sat at his desk sifting through a large pile of letters. Tomorrow the army would be racing towards Denerim; he really should deal with these before he left. _Maker knows if we will any of us return._ He frowned at the small, sealed letter, addressed in a cramped hand to Bann Teagan. Eamon summoned a servant and asked her to take the letter to his brother.

Teagan stared at the letter; he was sure he recognised the handwriting. He went to the old nursery and was disappointed to find that all the papers Jowan had left behind had been cleared away; there was no sign that he had ever been in this room. All Rafe had told them was that Jowan had parted company with them soon after they left Redcliffe, although officially, they were telling people that he'd died in a skirmish. Teagan broke the seal on the letter.

20 Solace 9:30

 _My Dearest Teagan_

 _I wanted to let you know that I am safe and well, but mostly I wanted to thank you again for the second chance you gave me. I am working hard to earn it, using my talents sparingly but, I hope, wisely. I don't know if you will ever truly understand, but I finally feel more than what I was and that is something I can never repay. I will forever be in your debt._

 _It is my dearest wish that one day I will be able to_ _ see  _ _you again. Maybe we will be able to finish that game of chess._

 _May the Maker watch over you and keep you safe from harm._

 _Levyn_


End file.
